


break my own promises

by joshlerz



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerz/pseuds/joshlerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's rugburn on his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	break my own promises

Tyler discovered sometime in high school that feeling ashamed of himself usually led to some form of hard-on. It started in tenth grade -- for some reason or other, he'd ended up eating dirt during a flag football game; a huge purple bruise snaked up his side, speckled with the dark shades of rugburn over his ribs. Brandon (Tyler couldn't remember his last name, they all blurred together at some point) had jabbed him with his fingers, twisted index and middle together on his side, shoving him to the side after and muttering something about him being a pussy.

The feeling of humiliation built in his stomach; but instead of spiraling right to his head, blood red and steaming of anger, it sent itself on a crash course to his crotch, pool of heat running in a jolt up his cock -- a move that sends Tyler to the gym showers, thinking about his grandparents coming to visit and his mom waking him up on Christmas instead of the pleasure that came with a verbal beatdown from the school bully.

Josh kind of helps him realize it, later on; Tyler's sucking him off one night in Josh's bedroom, while his parents are out, and all it takes is Josh snickering when Tyler gags on his cock, eyes watering when he pulls back to cough, that makes him question whether or not he's turned on by people insulting him. It escalates, sometimes -- Josh calling him a dirty slut, low and easy over the phone, or maybe Josh grabbing his hips and forcing him against the wall of the dressing room, muttering things in Tyler's ear about how many people will see him fall if he so happens to stumble off the piano during the medley.

The build up is nothing compared to the payoff; nothing compared to Josh holding him up against the wall of the bus but not letting Tyler make a sound, not let him cum, edging him back and forth three times until Tyler clenches around him so hard that Josh starts up his usual tradition of babbling and leaving bruises on his waistline in the shape of fingerprints.


End file.
